


Classic Wartime Perils

by Thalassophobia



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Force Atheism?, Gen, Hanging From a Cliff AU, Rex Being Badass, force sensitive Rex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:33:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28560627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thalassophobia/pseuds/Thalassophobia
Summary: A lot can happen in three minutes. Especially when you're the one thing standing in between your General and certain death, impossibly high up with no hope of rescue.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 51





	Classic Wartime Perils

It was a misty day on a misty planet.

Beneath his helmet, sweat trickled into his eyes. He winced, muscles flexing involuntarily, and bit back a groan.

Rex considered himself an all-rounder, a jack of all trades. He wasn’t the sharpest shooter. Dozens of his brother hit their marks more consistently and from far more impressive distances. He wasn’t the strongest fighter either, though that wasn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things. Rex didn’t have the deftness of some others but he could get his brothers in line quick. Experience made him a good leader. That’s where most his value lied. Going off personal experience, it was great having all-rounders in the field for when a situation went south. More often than not, because bad luck worked that way, it was the specialists that got hit at the worst possible time; the sniper’s, the medics, the spies. That’s where the all-rounder swooped in to cover the team’s holes.

Besides leadership, which came to everybody in time, there was one trait Rex believed he held in spades. Stamina – both physical and mental. Currently, he was utilizing that stamina to keep him and the General from plummeting a thousand feet to their deaths. Rex wasn’t sure of how high they were up actually, but he wasn’t about to look down to get a better estimate. He gripped the cliff tight in one hand and General Skywalker’s ankle even tighter in the other. An explosion had rocked them both. An old landmine set off by some wayward maintenance droid, from what he could remember. Rex swore his brain had bounced because of it, but he was doing better than the General.

At least he was conscious.

He clenched his teeth and began a maneuver that was not unlike trying to thread a needle blindfolded in its difficulty. Rex lifted them both, breaths squeezing fast out of him and spilling back in faster. He might’ve gotten a few centimeters up, before his muscles rejected the attempt. He relaxed his shoulder, dipping down to his original position.

He worried General Skywalker might’ve cracked his head on the ground when he got thrown back by the explosion. Being upside down wasn’t great for brain injuries, that much he knew, but there wasn’t much Rex could do about it. He apologized anyways. Gripping the cliff even tighter now, Rex fought to regain the energy to try and lift them again. Good thing they weren’t further down. Luckily, if they was anything lucky about being seconds away from falling to his death, they were right at the top.

All Rex had to do was pull them up and they’d be good. They’d be safe. All he had to do was this one simple thing. The longer he dangled, the worse it’d get. So, he needed simply do what need be done. Rex tried again to save them and again he failed.

Pins and needles danced up his arm.

Rex seethed.

It was a misty day on a misty planet with near nonexistent visibility.

Even if others had heard the explosion, they couldn’t be seen through the mist. There wasn't enough time. His grip was slipping. Spittle flew from his mouth as he cursed incoherently, the smell of his own breath filling his nose. _Just this one thing_ , he pleaded to no one. _Let me have the strength for this one thing._

Sweat stung his eyes again, though in all honesty it might’ve been tears. Rex, being an honest man, was say of himself if prompted, "I'm average.". He’d the luck of a soft-hearted General and years of survival on his side, but not much else. Never had he more felt his averageness, his lack of specialty while dangling helpless off the side of a cliff. Still, in spite of this perceived averageness, his life didn’t flash before his eyes like an average person.

No, Rex heard voices before his demise. Things he’d heard in passing. Things he’d been told.

“Do better, CT – 7567.”

“Attention!”

“Rex? Good name, that. I go by Cody.”

“Remember your training.”

"In certain parts, Rex means king."

“You’re just a clone.”

"Fives, sir."

“Stupid clone.”

"Echo."

“Stupid clone.”

"Kix."

"Stupid clone."

"Jesse."

"Fox."

"Tup."

"Vaughn."

"Hardcase."

"Stupid clone."

"Rex."

_Stupid clone, to think you could –_

“May the Force be with you.”

“Thank you, sir. Thank you.”

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name?"

“Thanks, Rex.”

“Thank you, truly.”

"What's your name?"

“All is as the Force wills it.”

"I'd see the face of the man who helped save our planet. Yes, that's it. What's your name, if you don't mind?"

“Trust in the Force.”

"Thank you for saving us."

"Rex? I'll remember it."

"I'll never forget you."

"Sir? If you don't mind? May I know your name?"

“Death is just a part of the Force. Welcome it.”

Rex cursed again. _To hell with that_ , he thought, a sudden pounding in his head.

It might’ve been sacrilege or a blasphemy, but Rex ground it out nonetheless. “To hell with the fucking Force.”

He was just a clone. What had the Force ever done for him? Regular men like him never got the blessings of the Force. So, why would he ever leave his own well-being and the well-being of his men in the hands of a force so fickle? If this was what was meant for him and all his sacrifices, he'd no choice but to deny it. _No._ If General Skywalker died, it’d be on him. If the General lived, it’d be because of him. Rex felt a second wind coming on.

To keep his sudden surge of strength going, he imagined losing Anakin. He envisioned disdain on High General Kenobi’s face and worse yet, the feigned apathy in his brothers’ in the 501st. He imagined Senator Amidala having to hide her tears. He pictured little Tano’s face when he explained why he couldn’t save her big brother. _No room for failure, Rex_. They were going home together or not at all. He and his brothers might’ve been engineered for war, but Rex was born to save this man on this day. And since he couldn’t bank on his own strength to get his friend to safety, he went with an unconventional method.

Rex started swinging. Slowly, at first. Something in his shoulder was about to tear, but he kept swinging up and up until the Jedi was just about level with the cliff’s edge. The plan was to fling him to safety like he would a weapons pack or a medic kit. Just a little higher. Rex’s elbow popped out of place. He let go of Anakin – largely by accident – and the man flew up and over in a clean arc, flopping onto the top of the cliff like dead fish.

All concern bled away. It took only a moment. In the waves of relief and pain, Rex’s concentration broke and his grip went slack. It happened in the time it took a man to blink. He lost his hold completely. Rex’s stomach clenched preparing for the fall. His heart dropped, but strangely _he_ did not. He hung there, right arm outstretched, hand grasping weakly at thin air. His heart hammered quick like blasterfire. He wasn’t falling, but he dared not look down.

Then, even more strangely than defying gravity, Rex floated up and up until he was a good ways away from the edge and his feet hovered above the ground. He was set down gently a bit to Anakin’s left where he ripped off his helmet and gulped in air. He fell to his knees, nursing his dislocated elbow and pressing his forehead to the ground. It was cool and wet and felt like heaven.

Rex let out a mixed garble of laughter, gratitudes, and curses.

Inhaling the scent of dew-covered grass, he gathered himself with shaky breaths. He glanced to his right at his unconscious friend.

“That was you, right?”

Anakin didn't reply, of course.

Rex didn’t want to think too hard on it, so he didn’t. He nodded, steadying himself, and got to his feet.

“Yeah, had to have been you.”


End file.
